


Dick's Drive-In

by suqua (cwsunrise)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Jokes, Gen, Seattle, almost as many dick jokes as season 7, angel battery zapped!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:57:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cwsunrise/pseuds/suqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Temporarily human Castiel, Dean, and Sam venture to the Pacific Northwest to deal with a monster. But more importantly, they get Dick's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dick's Drive-In

**Author's Note:**

> If you have never been around Seattle, WA or know anyone from Seattle, WA then this joke is going to be 30% lost on you. Dick's Drive-In has cheap, tasty burgers for -at the most- $2.70. Their stuff is great and they don't advertise more than a little social media, it's very word of mouth. It's old fashioned and uses local ingredients, they help college students pay for college... And as a result of the name, almost everyone who loves Dick's also loves making Dick's jokes. I know I do.
> 
> (Side note: If you DO go to Seattle for Dick's, by all means tell Dick's jokes to your Seattle friends or whoever...Just not to the people who work there! And get the ice cream sundae with blackberry sauce!!!)

Despite having been near the border of Washington for two weeks, there’s little rain until they’re through northern Seattle. It was sunny, then there was a brief sunlit drizzle before the clouds rolled in with a sudden downpour.

“Hello, Pacific Northwest,” Dean murmurs, driving across the Aurora Bridge to find their hotel. Raindrops dot the front window, fat specks of water with gray skies above them. Dean squints and attempts to navigate to the hotel Sam had found online. His stomach’s fairly empty, too empty by his standards. “I need to eat, Sammy, where the hell is this place?”

“Just across the bridge, Dean.”

The way Dean grumbles makes it sound like Sam just told him another two hours. “So hungry,” he whines, spotting the sign for this week’s motel. He glances over his shoulder at the back seat’s lone occupant. “You eating, Cas?”

Castiel is watching through the window, hands in his lap and a seat belt across his lap. He was in a tee-shirt, jeans, and socked feet. His suit and overcoat were in a dry cleaning bag against the opposite window. Just a week earlier, he’d zapped his batteries in a particularly tricky fight and had yet to get it back. So, as of late Dean and Sam had been treated to the sight of an Angel of the Lord eating, sleeping, and generally acting pretty damn human.

They weren’t talking about whether or not it was permanent yet, and Castiel didn’t seem to mind.

“I do require sustenance,” he responded, watching a passing couple and their dog with intense curiosity.

Sam hooks a thumb back over the bridge. “You can get your favorite, Dean. Dick’s.”

“Ooh. Yes. Love me some Dick’s.”

Castiel, who had lost sight of the pedestrians, turned and looked up at the dash. “‘Dick’s’?” he repeated, unfamiliar with the word other than directed at Dick Roman or insult. Or both.

Dean glances up into the rear view mirror. A smile that Castiel couldn’t see spread across his face. “Yeah. It’s a local burger joint. Cheap, damn good burgers for less than three bucks. You want some?”

Understanding smoothed out the confusion on Castiel’s face. “Yes. Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

After having checked in and taking off immediately after, Dean walked back into the hotel room with a quirk of a smile on his face. He was weighed down by a few bags, supplies and food for the road. Castiel perched at the end of one of the beds, remote to the television in his hand while engrossed in a children’s show. Sam was lying against the headboard of the other bed, ruining his back while researching on his laptop.

Setting the supplies down on the table near the door, Dean couldn’t keep the smile from spreading. He took his time, took a few steps until Castiel looked up from the screen. “Hello, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean said oh-so-casually. Casually enough that Sam glanced up from his laptop with a trace amount of concern across his face. “Sooo, still feeling hungry?”

“Yes. Very.” Cas responded, expectant.

Dean’s smile broadened. “Hungry for Dick’s?”

Without hesitation, Castiel nodded and Sam fought to stifle a choking noise from his throat. “Yes. Did you buy them?”

Taking a couple steps back, Dean removed a greasy, white paper bag from the larger folded-up brown paper bag. Instantly the smell of burgers and fries flooded the room. He’s all smiles, holding the bag aloft. “I sure did. Bought you a, uh, big bag of Dick’s,” he said, sounding quite proud of himself.

Sam, the usual recipient of these jokes, marvels at how nice it is to be on the outside of them as he struggles to keep a straight face.

“Thank you. May I?” Castiel extends a hand, waiting.

Dean’s brows lift and he waits a moment before asking, “May you...?”

“May I have the bag?”

“The bag of what?”

“That bag.”

“The bag of Dick’s?”

Castiel draws in a breath and lets it out, starting to sense something amiss. “Yes, Dean, the bag of Dick’s,” he says, then with a rise of his brows he adds, “Please.”

“Okay. Enjoy your Dick’s,” Dean says warmly, taking the step closer and handing them off. He slaps Cas’ shoulder before he turns and heads back to the table.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said, opening the folded bag and starting to rummage inside for the fries before they cooled.

Dean picked up the bottle of whiskey at the dining table, settled into one of their kitchenette dining chairs before he speaks again. “They’re, uh. Extra hot. Extra hot Dick’s,” he said with an easy, casual smile.

Castiel had one of the foil-wrapped burgers in hand and he handled it slightly before looking up at Dean with one of his patented confused expression. “Is this a spicer variant? I requested a regular burger.”

Dean shakes his head, pursing his lips. “No, no.” He shrugs, tilting his head. “Just, you know, hotter. Juicier. Dick’s.”

Cas watched Dean carefully, not looking away as he breaks the seal of the wrapper on one side with a gentle thumb. He only looked away to unfold the burger, leaving half of it covering the burger as a barrier for the inevitable mess.

“I see,” he said, lifting the burger to his mouth and taking a generous bite. He chewed, feeling a small rush of pleasure at the taste of the good burger.

Then came Dean’s voice again, still casual. “Is it good?”

“Yes,” Cas answered around the bite, through the corner of his mouth.

“Your Dick’s are good?”

Dean was being persistent.

“Yes, Dean. Very good.”

“How do Dick’s taste in your mouth, Cas?”

“Good,” Castiel said with a bit more force, a small attempt at putting his foot down. Sam was covering his face at this point, a small shake of his chest betraying what appeared to be laughter.

“Specifically, how do they taste?”

“Dean, I’m trying to-”

“Humor me. Come on. How do your Dick’s taste?”

Resently, Castiel swallowed and responded deadpan. “Like meat.”

“And?”

“It tastes like a burger, Dean. A very good burger.”

Dean twisted his mouth, not quite a smile but still amused. It seemed he had grown tired of it. He nodded a couple times. “Good,” he said, rounding the table and pulling out his own burger from the bag.

Still smiling as he bites into the burger, Dean noticed that Castiel had stopped eating. After watching Dean a moment, Castiel asks, “How do your Dick’s taste, Dean?”

Both Sam and Dean choked, Dean on his burger and Sam on his suppressed laughter.

 

* * *

 

It takes them two days of less than four hours asleep between them and a closed motel to wrap up the case. Seattle’ Fremont Troll is not, in fact, sentient. Despite the rumors of a few deaths caused by the landmark statue, the location had become the walking grounds of a crocotta.

“I really liked that hotel,” Dean complained, walking to the car with the dust in his hair itching and making him cranky.

Their monster of the week had discovered they were after him, started going after all of the persons staying at the motel. They’d even tried luring Castiel once on his cell phone, who had merely tilted his head as the monster spoke in a familiar voice and said: ‘You aren’t very good at this,’ before the line went dead. That’d also been when the monster went nasty. When asked who had tried to lure him, Castiel had gone a bit soft and said ‘My brother’. It didn’t really matter who he meant, it was pretty sick.

Sam nodded slightly, steps a little uneven. With the adrenaline rush coming down and the knowledge that he can sleep without someone dying, he was falling asleep on his feet. He’d not done well without sleep lately, both he and Dean had gotten used to long nights of actual, healthy sleep. “Too bad about the innkeep.”

“Poor guy. I liked him.” Dean said with a sigh, making a face. The innkeeper had the unfortunate luck to live in the Fremont area within walking distance of the troll.

Castiel was already by the car, looking refreshed but not angel-refreshed. “You powered up, yet, Cas?” Dean asked him with a broad yawn, looking over the hood of the car at him expectantly. “Or, uh, you figured out when you will be?” If.

Shaking his head, Castiel looked off a moment. “I don’t know.” But he’s smiling.

They were quiet setting out from the Fremont area, Dean taking the wheel. He figured he could drive at least a few hours, get them a few miles out of the city. Maybe head south for some Califonia weather. Three straight days of rain and wind were getting to him.

He was only driving five minutes, Sam already squished with closed eyes against the window. “Hey. Wanna grab something to eat before we get going? Sam?”

“Mmmmno,” Sam slurred slightly, arms crossing a little tighter.

Dean gives him one brief affectionate look before glancing up at the rearview mirror. His grin goes wide. “What about you, Cas? Want some Dick’s?”

Looking forward, Castiel says with complete seriousness: “No, Dean. I believe I’ve had enough Dick’s in my mouth this week.”

Dean has to pull over into a loading zone in Wallingford, forehead on the steering wheel with tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.


End file.
